I need to be honest with you — I did not expect to be emotionally invested in a man making instant coffee in a break room. But the author wrote this scene and I was GONE.
Let me walk you through it. Yu Sibai just got called out by his boss, he's been walking on eggshells about his job, and then he's alone in the break room with his phone playing the championship highlight. The text says: "In the mirror, he was smiling widely, dimples showing, looking almost foolishly happy — completely different from the cold, expressionless Team Leader Yu."
And then he pats his cheeks to smooth away the dimples because "Happiness aside, it wouldn't be good if colleagues saw."
I am not okay. This man cannot even enjoy his own joy in private without checking if someone might walk in. The emotional restraint is so deep it's practically a character trait.
But then — the absolute peak of this entire sequence — he tears open the instant coffee, shakes it like he's popping champagne, and the text literally says: "A working man's version of popping champagne!" And he's smiling at his phone screen with those dimples back, completely unguarded, watching his friend pupu win a championship that he helped make possible through late-night strategy sessions and data analysis.
The friendship between Yu Sibai and pupu is genuinely touching. Pupu doesn't just thank him — he publicly calls him "our big streamer Respit2" and promises to give him a chance to confess his love for Card God. That's not just gratitude, that's devotion. Pupu knows his friend's sacrifices and wants to honor them in the most public way possible.
And Yu Sibai's reaction? He flushes, stammers out a wish to meet Execut2, and plays it off as fandom. But we know it's more than that. He's protecting something precious — his anonymous connection to the gaming world, his friendship with pupu, his own softness. The emotional stakes here are quietly enormous.